


Sunsets

by SeptemberCrypt



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, Depression, M/M, Spoilers, but also not really, dont read this unless youve tdc, im just trash, im sorry, im still mad about that stupid book, serious spoilers, so deal with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 03:11:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14126829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeptemberCrypt/pseuds/SeptemberCrypt
Summary: Thomas has some regrets. But then again, don't we all?





	Sunsets

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still so flip floppin' irritated about Newt and what James Assner did to him.
> 
> (great books though I'm reading them for the fourth time this month because I like to torture myself)

There are times when Thomas thinks back to the Maze, to everything that happened, and he thinks about how if he knew that  _ this  _ is how it was all going to end up, there are so many things he would have changed. At first, he tried to block it all out, forget what happened, start a new life here. But he could never get rid of the dreams. No matter how much he willed them away, they always came back. He even tried not sleeping for days on end, but eventually, his tired body always gave in. 

It’s been two years now, and they still won’t go away. He’s still haunted by that day, that moment. It’s the one he wants to forget the most. But it’s also the one that’s clearest in his mind. It’s never going away, and he’ll never be free from it. By God, does he wish he could just  _ forget _ it. Forget  _ him _ . If he’d never met him, Thomas knows it would have saved him worlds of pain. But he also knows that if he never met him, he’d never have gotten here, gotten  _ them  _ here. Without Newt, he would have given up long ago. 

Sure, life is good here. It’s all still growing. This paradise they’re living in. He still doesn’t know where exactly they are, but it’s safe and beautiful. Why question it?  The first few months, everyone was on edge, afraid that it wasn’t going to last, that all this would be taken away again. But it wasn’t, and it probably never will. Thomas is sure that the only person that knows where they are is Chancellor Paige, a woman he’s never even met. Not in this life anyway. Thomas looks at the person he was before the Glade as someone completely different, someone who died the day  he went into the box. That boy is gone, and Thomas is glad for it. He doesn’t ever want to become him again. 

Thomas looks up to the sky, the setting sun painting all kinds of pinks and oranges across it. It’s gorgeous here. Thomas just wishes Newt could have seen it. He sees him now, smiling and laughing. Sitting down at the fireplace they all like to gather around, for old times sake. He sees Newt finally let go, relax, because after so much, they’re finally  _ home _ . But he isn’t here. He never saw it, and never will. Because Thomas left him on the ground, bleeding, dead. He left him and he didn’t even look back. He didn’t have the  _ guts _ to look back. Thomas just left him to rot there and he won’t ever forgive himself for it. 

“It’s not like you could’ve saved me.” A thickly accented voice drifts in from the left of where Thomas is sitting, misty, like it’s a part of the wind.

Thomas squeezes his eyes shut, willing the tears not to come. “Maybe I could have.”

“No.” The voice is clearer now, like he’s right there next to Thomas. Like he’s still alive. “There’s no cure, I was doomed from the start.”

Thomas wipes the back of his hand over his cheek, lifting his heading and looking over to the side. The first time he saw him, he was so sure it was real. Filled with false hope and feeling a joy he thought had been lost to him forever. Of course, it didn’t last. Before long he realized it was just a figment of his imagination, a concoction of his broken mind and shattered heart.  He never told anyone about what he sees and hears, just like he never told them what really happened to Newt. These secrets will die with him. 

Back in the early days, Minho would try to brighten his spirits by saying maybe Newt was still able to find some sort of happiness, that he was still able to lead some sort of life. But he doesn’t know what Thomas did. Doesn’t know that Newt’s brains are splattered across old concrete. He doesn’t know what happened and Thomas wants to keep it that way. 

“Don’t say that.” He stares into big, brown eyes, filled with sadness. Newt always had sad eyes, even when he was smiling. 

“Tommy, there was  _ nothing  _ you could’ve done. Just let me go.” Newt tears his gaze away from Thomas, looking out over at the home they’ve built. Thomas watches him bring his knees to his chest, long blonde hair tucked behind an ear. 

“I can’t.” And it’s the truth. Thomas knows that he’ll never be able to let him go, forget about him. It’s not fair. Because he’s tried again and again but Newt’s face is still the most vivid picture in his mind. How in his last moments, it was like there was barely any of him even left in there, eyes clouded with madness. That last grasp of sanity right before Thomas blew a hole in his head. 

“Then you’ll never be happy.” New says sadly. 

Thomas feels the hot tears rolling down his cheeks. No point in hiding them. It’s not like anyone’s really there to see. It’s just Thomas, sad and alone on a grassy hill with nothing to do but talk to himself. “I knew I’d never be happy the moment I pulled the trigger.” 

Sometimes Thomas resents himself for killing Newt. And sometimes he resents Newt for asking him to. He gets why Newt wanted to die, why he was so afraid of turning into a psychotic monster, but he doesn’t get why Newt would ask something so big of him. Newt could have just as easily taken his own life, so why ruin Thomas’s along with it? Why force Thomas to hear his lifeless body fall to the ground as he ran away? He had to have known what it would do to Thomas. 

“Why?”

“I don’t bloody know. I’m not  _ real _ , and I’m not  _ him _ . No matter how much you want me to be. I’m just a silly little hallucination in that shucked-up head of yours.” Newt taps his own temple, looking over at Thomas. He has a point. You can’t bring back the dead. But you can remember them. 

“Every night, I say their names before I go to sleep.” Thomas says, trying to take in all the details of Newt’s face. “Alby. Chuck. Winston. Ben. Teresa. The Gladers. All the deaths I’m responsible for. The lives that have ended because of the stupid mistakes I’ve made. I’m the reason they’re dead.”

He looks down, ashamed. Then Newt’s hands grab at his shoulders, forcing Thomas to look back up at him.

“Stop that. You don’t get to blame yourself for all the bad things that happened in a shoddy situation. Look around, Tommy, you’re the reason these people are  _ alive _ . If it weren’t for you, for the sacrifices you’ve made, the people you’ve lost, none of  _ them _ would be here. You’ve saved so many more people than you’ve lost, so stop looking at the negative side of things. You  _ did  _ it. You said you’d save us and you did. And maybe I didn’t make it here, maybe Chuck didn’t make it here. That doesn’t matter, because look at everyone who  _ did _ .”

Thomas just blinks, staring into his friend’s eyes. He’s right. He always is. “That doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.”

Newt sighs. “I may be gone, but to bring everyone here, safe and happy, I’d die a thousand times. And it’s not fair, but life isn’t fair, and you need to accept that.”

“I just miss you so much.” Thomas admits, more hot tears making their way down his face. “There are so many things I left unsaid. Things that I didn’t even know about until you were already gone. Things I should have realized and said to you while I still could.” He tries to hide the waver in his voice. This Newt may not technically be real, but he sure seems like it.

“Then tell me now.” Newt’s voice is soft, reassuring. Brown eyes boring into Thomas’s soul. He’d think that after so long, the memory of what Newt looked like, what he sounded like, how he acted, would fade. But it never did. He’s still the clearest thing in Thomas’s mind, perfect right down to the little flecks of green in his irises, the faint dust of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He’s just how Thomas remembers him. And Thomas feels a pang deep in his chest, one that never fully went away after Newt died.

“You mean so much to me.” He leans forward just a little bit, pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes. He feels so real, Thomas can almost pretend that he never got sick, never died. He can almost pretend that Newt made it back with them, that he’s really here, living the life he was never allowed. Free. “More than I thought you ever could.” Thomas’s voice cracks. “You were always there for me, always believed in me. You lifted me up, gave me the courage to fight back and  _ survive _ . You were by my side through it all. You were my anchor, my rock. And I wouldn’t have gotten so far if it weren’t for you.”

Thomas brings a hand up to card through Newt’s hair, imagining that it’s all real. “And I feel so lost without you here. Because I love you, and I can never forgive myself for failing to save you. I never got to tell you how I feel, and I’ll never know how you felt, if you loved me too. I wasn’t ready to lose you like that, I’m still not. And I would give  _ anything  _ just to be able to see you again.”

He opens his eyes, staring out at the emptiness. He lets his hand drop to the grassy floor, vision blurring. For a moment there, Thomas actually believed his own lies, his own imagination. His mind  _ almost  _ tricked him into believe Newt was actually there, alive. Almost. And Thomas meant every word he said. He’d give anything to see Newt again. But Newt is dead, and he’s not coming back, no matter how much Thomas misses him. Maybe things would have worked out a little differently if Thomas had understood his feelings sooner. Maybe they would have found a way to save Newt. Just maybe.

The sun has set by now, the sky slowly darkening above Thomas’s head. Pretty soon the stars will be out. Thomas thinks that Newt would have loved stargazing. It’s so beautiful here, almost like you can see the whole galaxy right there. It’s magical.

Thomas knows that he’s not going to last much longer. He can’t keep going on like this, with his fantasies and what ifs. He’s not sure if there’s some sort of afterlife or heaven, but if there is, then he knows Newt will be waiting for him with open arms. Maybe he should just let himself believe that, because maybe Newt is somewhere out there and Thomas isn’t out of chances. Of course, that’s just wishful thinking. But it’s a nice thought, it makes Thomas smile a little bit.

He pushes himself up off the ground, stretching his arms and legs before making his way back to their little town. It’s finally a home, but it’s not Thomas’s home. His home is wherever Newt is waiting, in that little afterlife Thomas is building in his head. And Minho and Brenda and Frypan will probably mourn him when they find his body, but he’ll leave them a note. He’ll let them know that he’s finally happy again, finally with Newt. And that he’ll see them again one day. Because that’s what Thomas wants to believe. And if he keeps telling himself that that’s what will happen, then maybe it will.


End file.
